I wrote in brief acknowledgement of the registered package and ended the letter ‘Love, C.’ I posted it on my way to the office and told Sandy about it when I got there. He expressed concern, but I said I was sure she would come round when she had thought matters over.
‘She was dead nuts on coming in with us, of course,’ I said. ‘Perhaps we ought to have waited a bit before we co-opted Elsa.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said Sandy. ‘We might have lost Elsa if we’d waited much longer.’
That morning Polly brought my coffee.
‘To what are we indebted?’ I asked, as she set down my cup. Usually one of the juniors brought it.
‘That pullover-and-jeans is here again,’ she replied, ‘and Miss Moore has got an author.’ She made it sound as though Elsa was suffering from a sick headache and, knowing some of our authors, I thought it more than likely that this was so. ‘Anyway, it’s you he wants to see,’ Polly went on, ‘so I told him I’d find out. You drink that coffee and let him wait.’
‘You might possibly give him a cup, too. It will help him pass the time,’ I suggested.
‘Do you know what fresh-ground coffee costs these days?’ she asked tartly. ‘Still, all right, if you say so.’
‘It will be a treat for the poor boy,’ I said. ‘Surely your motherly heart goes out to him?’
‘I don’t like young men in horn-rims.’
‘That is mere prejudice.’
‘He dresses like a tramp that’s lost all self-respect, and yet if those horn-rims cost a penny under sixty pounds I should be surprised. It’s what they call inverted snobbery.’
‘He’s a student of geology.’
‘No wonder he looks so grubby.’ She waited while I drank my coffee, then she took away the cup and added, ‘Shall I send him in?’
‘Yes, when he’s finished the coffee you are going to give him. You might add a couple of substantial biscuits. I expect he’s hungry. Boys always are.’
When Trickett came in, he was obviously the bearer of tidings. His thin face was flushed and his spectacles glittered. He reminded me of Gussie Fink-Nottle contemplating a particularly fine collection of newts.
‘I say, you know,’ he said, ‘we’ve had a Visitation, you know.’
‘Come, come!’ I said. ‘The time of the final apocalypse is not yet. I suppose you mean Dame Beatrice Lestrange Bradley has shown up at the hall of residence.’
This deflated him. He took a chair and said in disappointed tones, ‘Oh, you knew. Yes, she turned up with the woman who is going to write up Bull’s life story. The warden has given full permission to them both and is all over the old lady. He’s already arranged for her to give a talk to the students when term starts. It seems she is very well known in her own circles, but she’s not going to talk on her own subject. She’s going to talk about murder.’
‘Well, that is her subject — a subsidiary one, perhaps, but, nevertheless, her own. She is a noted criminologist and murderers are her speciality.’
‘I say, that’s fine! Everybody loves a good murder. The rest of the poly lot will be as envious as Cassius when they know we’ve actually been mixed up in one.’
‘They probably know already. The story has been in all the papers.’
‘Still, the walkers and the orchestra were the only ones of our lot who were actually there when it happened. Dame Beatrice is fearfully interested. She wants to find out how we all reacted and will add what we tell her to round out her talk. We’re going to have another party before she gives her talk, but she’s giving it herself. She wants me to give out most of the invitations, though. It’s to be held at a restaurant where they will give us a private room — La Carpe Heureuse. Do you know it?’
‘Yes. I’ve taken Hera there several times. Marvellous food.’
‘Ah, Miss Camden, yes. Do you think she will come? Todd is invited, too, of course. He took Patsy Carlow to a nightclub the other evening, as term hasn’t started yet, and Miss Camden and Freddie Brown were invited as well. I suppose their job was to keep the party clean. Patsy is only too apt to step high, wide and plentiful if anybody treats her to champagne. She told Coral she had bedded down with Todd, but Coral says that was only wishful thinking. Will you pass the invitation on to Miss Camden? Six thirty on Wednesday for seven. Black ties or a dark suit. The warden and his wife are coming.’
‘Is Detective-Inspector Bingley to be one of the company?’ I asked facetiously.
‘I shouldn’t think so. He would rather cramp our style, don’t you think?’ said Trickett seriously.
‘What about Bull, who is on the threshold of becoming a bestselling author?’
‘Poor old Bull! No, he won’t be there, but Dame Beatrice is bringing Miss Lestrange and Mrs Gavin.’
‘Mrs Gavin? — oh, of course, Laura!’
‘They wondered whether your partner would like to come — Mr Alexander, isn’t it?’
‘Storey, actually. We combine our first names for business purposes. Yes, I think he would very much like to come. Are the members of the orchestra invited?’
‘Dame Beatrice has left it to me, so I think not. Ostensibly the thing is my party, so I’ve decided that the only poly people will be those who went on the walk. Dame Beatrice particularly wants Perth to come and has sent him a return ticket and will book him in for Wednesday night at an hotel. Well, with our people, including you and Todd and Miss Camden, the warden and his wife, Miss Lestrange, Mrs Gavin and Dame Beatrice herself, we shall be quite a large enough gathering, I think. I say, who is the stunning young woman who looks like the Queen of Sheba and makes me feel as though I’m six years old and have jam on my face?’
‘Our junior partner, Miss Elsa Moore.’
‘Is she Jewish?’
‘Irish, I would have thought.’
‘I bet she had a Jewish mother, then. You can’t mistake the arrogance of that type of Jewish girl, you know, when they’re as good-looking as that and so damned brainy with it.’
‘Good gracious, Elsa isn’t arrogant! Far from it. She’s the quietest, most amenable person.’
‘All the same,’ he said, ‘I bet she ties your authors up in knots if they come here looking for an argument. I say! You wouldn’t like to bring her to the party, would you? I can invite anybody I like, you know, and I do admire Miss Moore most awfully.’
‘I can’t bring Elsa if Hera is going to be there.’
‘Ah,’ he said, taking off the horn-rims which Polly had criticised and gesturing with them at me.’Like that, is it?’
‘Just like that, but not for the reason you seem to think,’ I said. He smiled pityingly and shook his head.
14: Not an Official Enquiry
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As though nothing had happened to separate us, I rang up Hera, told her about the invitation and asked whether she was prepared to accept it. She replied in the same liberal spirit and said that she would look forward to the gathering.
‘Pick me up half an hour before you had intended to,’ she said, ‘and I’ll give you a drink. What is the party in aid of, anyway?’
‘I think Dame Beatrice wants to size us all up.’
‘Good gracious! What an uncomfortable thought! Never mind. When do I expect you on Wednesday?’
‘Would a quarter to six be all right?’
When we met, it was like old times. She was wearing a dinner dress of midnight blue and looked more beautiful than ever. I told her so. Neither of us referred to the return of the engagement ring. I had it with me, but, unless the right moment offered itself, there was no point in attempting to return it.